


Directions

by Nerdwithapen



Category: Undertale (Video Game)
Genre: Slice of Life
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-18
Updated: 2020-08-18
Packaged: 2021-03-06 05:08:23
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 414
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25977967
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Nerdwithapen/pseuds/Nerdwithapen
Summary: When humans rejoined the surface and Gaster is freed from his Void imprisonment, the government finds his work with The Core an intriguing solution to the world's growing energy crisis. With polite force, they recruit both him and his previous assistant, Sans, to oversee a new energy project. So far, it's just been a lot of meetings— not that Sans and Gaster would know, since they never seem to make any of them. || Drabble Request: Sans and Gaster driving around lost and arguing about asking for directions. ||
Kudos: 11





	Directions

They had been driving for about an hour. At first, classical music had filled the car, negating any need for conversation. As they continued driving up the mountain, however, their radio range fell and so the car was filled with nothing but silence, save for the occasional murmur under Gaster's breath as he narrowed his eyes to the road. Sans finally spoke up when they drove by a green sign that read, "exit 209."

“y’missed the turn.”

“No, **_Sans_** , I am quite certain _I did not_.”

“ok.” Sans shrugged as much as he could while slumping in the passenger seat. Driving had only become legal for monsters somewhere around the previous year, and he hadn’t bothered getting a license. He suspected Gaster would have avoided it as well, but traveling by train alone would only get them so far. At least trains didn’t miss their turns, though.

“Where the bloody hell is the red barn? Grillby _insisted_ that we would pass a red barn by now—”

“it’s back there. by the turn you missed.”

“I’m sorry, Sans," Gaster spoke with a dripping sweetness that seemed a little less than genuine, "would _you_ like to drive?”

“not particularly.”

“Ah, well, perhaps you could _cease attempting to drive from the passenger seat_ , then.”

“it’s called a backseat driver.”

“ _Well you are not IN the backseat, now are you?_ ”

“there’s a shop up ahead,” Sans went on, pointedly ignoring their previous conversation. “could ask ‘em where we go from here.”

“Oh, directions from the _humans_ , **lovely**.”

“could also just turn around.”

“I don’t need to turn around because ** _I did not miss the turn._** ”

“ok.”

“Could you **please** just call Grillby and ask him to clarify his directions?”

“can’t.”

There was a pause as Gaster’s grip on the wheel appeared to increase tenfold. “Why not?”

“phone’s dead.”

A breath that Sans hadn’t realized Gaster had been holding came out in one long, exasperated sigh. “I told you to charge it before we _left_.”

“y’did? huh. don’t remember that.”

Gaster grumbled something that wasn’t privy to Sans's metaphorical ears, but he assumed it was a curse of some variety. Latin, probably. They came up near the shop, but the car didn’t slow down and subsequently passed their only chance at directions. Despite this, they did, eventually, successfully arrive at their destination; 3 hours after they were supposed to be there. The meeting was over. Everyone else had left.

On the positive side, though, Sans had a fantastic nap.


End file.
